White & Crimson Roses
by Jase Shadowstar
Summary: FujiRyo AUish. Full summary inside. After his first year at Seigaku, Ryoma moves to another city. 3 to 4 years later, a familiar someone walks back into his life along with a load of trouble. Drawn into the unseen play of magic and demons, they find thems
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** White & Crimson Roses

**Author:** Jase Shadowstar

**Summary: **

(FujiRyo) AU-ish. After freshman year at Seigaku Junior High, Ryoma moves away to another city. Three to four years later, a very familiar someone walks back into his life along with an avalanche of trouble. Soon, the whole school finds itself caught in the weaves of magic and demons that they never knew existed in a play that is not quite what it seems.

WARNINGS: Alter universe (AU) and many, many original characters (OC)

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.

Prologue

Ryoma entered the restaurant with his heart full of apprehension. The diners was not large, composed of one large room and a few, smaller chambers off to the sides, divided by glass walls hung over by white curtains. At this time of day—sometime during the late afternoon—there weren't a great deal of customers and the place felt slightly empty in a peaceful sort of way. It was a nice place to be sure, but he was too preoccupied to pay too much attention.

He was here to wait for someone.

A waiter led him to a table in an adjoining room and handed him a menu with a welcoming smile. "Would you like something to drink, sir?"

"Just water," he muttered and sat down, the menu lying before him untouched.

Glancing up at the clock that hung above the doorway, Ryoma frowned.

He was late.

_Bastard_, he growled mentally. _He could at least show up on time. He was the one who asked me to meet him here in the first place_. 

He nodded to the waiter as he set a glass of ice water before him and bustled off. Staring idly at the ice cubes swirling around in the concoction, Ryoma frowned. He was steeling himself for what he had to say to the other once he decided to arrive. Things had been running smoothly between the two of them, but an unexpected something had come up.

A distressed frown creased his brows.

Finally, the jingling of the front door announced that someone else had entered the restaurant. Looking up, he met smiling eyes as the waiter showed the person in. As the man left, he shut the door behind him, leaving the two in total silence for several, long moments.

"Good afternoon, Ryo-kun," the pleasant voice greeted as the light brown-haired youth took a seat beside him.

"You're late, Fuji-sempai," Ryoma stated simply.

The tensai chuckled. "Hai. Gomen."

Ryoma snorted in annoyance, turning his golden glare to the glass of ice water.

Fuji opened his eyes, examining his companion carefully. The other was uneasy.

"Saa…What's on your mind, Ryoma?" he asked lightly.

There was a long, awkward silence while the dark-haired teen traced patterns on the table with his finger. Ducking his head, he mumbled something.

Fuji scooted closer to him. "What was that?"

Ryoma finally looked up to meet his gaze, taking a deep breath. "I'm moving."

Ryoma peered out the window of the plane until the lights of the city were obscured by cloud.

With a sigh, he sat back in his seat, one hand reaching up unconsciously to grasp the locket he now wore around his neck. It was a beautiful thing, crafted of gold and molded into the shape of a rose. Clicking it open, he stared down at the tiny photograph within. It showed Syusuke wearing his customary, deceptively innocent smile with his arms wrapped around his kouhai's shoulders. Both were in their Regulars' uniforms and the younger boy in question was scowling up at the camera from under the brim of his hat.

Ryoma smiled despite himself as he recalled what Fuji had said right before they said farewell at the diner's the day before.

_Saa, Ryoma, we will meet again. Just don't forget me in the meantime, ne?_

Thanks for reading


	2. Chapter 2

**WARNINGS **AU, slash, many, many Ocs

Chapter 1 

Sixteen-year-old Echizen Ryoma smirked across the court at his opponent, resting his tennis racket on his shoulder.

"Mada mada dane, Okiru-sempai."

Okiru Ytashi glared at the cocky team captain Spinning, he resisted the urge to fling his racket at that smirking face and stalked off the court, grabbing his bag as he passed the benches.

Shrugging, Ryoma headed for the locker rooms, stifling a yawn. He paused at the locker room door, blinking. For a moment there, he thought he had seen a familiar figure standing at the fence. His skin prickled with the eerie sensation of being watched. But when he looked back, there was no one there.

Shrugging away the notion as an impossibility, Ryoma opened the door and stepped inside. He had been 'seeing things' all week. First, it was strangers in what might have been cloaks, deep hoods hiding their faces in shadow. This morning, it was the same person who he had just hallucinated by the tennis courts. So Ryoma thought nothing more of it, his thoughts returning to the one thing that dominated his life: tennis.

There were some promising players in the school for sure, but they still had a long way to go before they could present anything of a challenge.

It was already late afternoon, so he changed quickly out of his school uniform and headed home.

……………………………..

The bony, white hands caressed the gleaming blade of the knife as they set it upon the polished, glass tabletop with a soft, metallic clink. Curved, claw-like nails tapped the cold, clear surface, gliding across it to a crystal orb held on a stand of rough limestone by carved talons of stone.

Unseen eyes glinted as they stared greedily into the unclouded depths, intent upon the image swirling within. Leather wings rustled as the owner of those inhuman hands turned away, eyes hooded as he moved into the dark.

A crow landed in a flurry of wings upon the table, head cocked as it peered into the glittering object. Then the figure within turned and, at the flash of golden orbs, the black bird squawked and took flight, leaving only a single, ebony feather to mark its passing.

………………………..

As he opened the front door, Nanako' s voice drifted from the kitchen. "Ryoma-kun, is that you?"

Ryoma slipped off his shoes and headed for the stairs. "Aa."

"We have a guest today," his cousin said cheerfully, "so don't stay up there too long. Dinner will be ready in ten minutes."

Ryoma rolled his eyes, dropping his schoolbag by his desk. His room was on the second floor, first door on the right. It was average in size with its own bathroom and one window looking down on the garden. Aside from the rectangular, mahogany desk, the room contained a bookcase, a bed, and a nightstand, upon which sat a lamp, its glass base filled with seashells and sand. Beside the lamp was a photograph.

Ryoma paused to examine it as he often found himself doing more and more often lately.

He had gotten the picture in the locket enlarged and framed it, setting it on his beside table. And staring at it now, all the memories came flooding back at the familiar features.

It had been three—nearly four years.

Sighing, he changed into a black T-shirt and shorts then headed downstairs.

"Can't I just eat up in my…." He trailed off, stopping dead in the kitchen doorway.

His heart was pounding in his throat. It couldn't be….

The figure seated at the kitchen table turned and gave him a bright smile.

"Saa, won't you join us, Ryo-kun?"

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	3. Chapter 3

**WARNINGS **AU, slash, many, many Ocs

Chapter 2 

"F—Fuji-sempai?"

Fuji Syusuke smiled at the confused and disbelieving expression on the boy's face.

When he had spotted the notice on an exchange program with the high school he knew Ryoma was now attending, he had jumped at the chance.

The odd thing was that when he returned home that day, his sister had already packed all his things and had the luggage waiting for him at the door. She had sent him on his way with a worried frown and a solemn, "Be careful. There's going to be trouble."

And the very next day, the other Seigaku regulars had come to see him off with a promise from Oishi that they would all visit during the winter break.

But back to the present.

Ryoma made his hesitant way to the dining table and sat gingerly on the edge of the seat across from Fuji.

Dinner was a tense and awkward affair with Nanjiro snickering behind his hand and his mother, cousin, and Fuji keeping up a polite conversation. Ryoma ate quickly and excused himself, followed swiftly by Fuji. The two left the kitchen and retired upstairs.

As Fuji closed the door to Ryoma's room and stood smiling as always, the younger boy was reminded of the time his sempai had appropriated—in Ryoma's opinion, _stolen_—the key to his house and snuck in at midnight to pester him. He suppressed a shudder at the—unpleasant—memory.

Fuji noted with amusement that Ryoma had grown taller—though he still fell short of the tensai.

Casting around for something to distract him, golden eyes landed on a book lying on his bedside table beside the red alarm clock.

"Whose book is that?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Saa, I was reading it." Fuji picked up the novel and showed it to him. "It's a play about demons, magic and romance. It's quite interesting really. You should try it."

Ryoma grunted, glancing only briefly at the book. The cover was pitch black around a beam of light that shone down upon two flowers, their emerald stems intertwined. Above, written in flowing, golden script was the title "White & Crimson Roses".

Getting up from the bed, Ryoma started to walk past his former boyfriend, muttering something about having homework.

Sapphire eyes glinted suddenly as a hand snaked up to cup the side of his face, turning his head towards the older boy as soft lips brushed lightly across his own. Then Fuji released him and Ryoma hurried to his schoolbag, blushing.

………………….

Night came too quickly.

Thankfully, for the most part, Fuji had gone to help his cousin organize the guest room. All the same, Ryoma wasn't sure—if Fuji was going to be staying in the aforementioned guest room—why his suitcase was sitting smugly beside the younger boy's desk.

Shutting his history book with a sigh, he got up and pulled the curtains on the window, pausing to peer out into the night before shutting it completely. The sky was dark, spangled with a scattering of stars like tiny gemstones in the vast expanse of velvety black.

He blinked, walking over to his bed and climbing under the covers.

Had it been his imagination or had the moon, which hung in a crescent within the heavens, been tinted with the slightest hint of red?

Sighing, he shut his eyes, wondering if he had remembered to lock his bedroom door.

There was the soft swish of swinging hinges and he shut his eyes tighter.

Apparently not.

The world was just not going to let his life be simple, was it?

Ryoma opened his eyes again, tensing as a weight settled onto the bed beside him. In the faint light of the moon filtering through the window curtains, he could distinguish only shadowy outlines of the figure.

"Fuji-sempai?" he asked uncertainly.

Arms circled his waist and pulled him against a familiar chest. "Shh, go to sleep, Ryoma."

The younger boy blinked a few more times before settling back and allowing himself to relax. Fuji, apparently, had every intention of picking up where they had left off all those years ago. And if that was the case, he had better prepare for a rough year.

"Goodnight, Syusuke."

"Goodnight, Ryoma."

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	4. Chapter 4

**AN: **This story will follow the characters through one school year with events like Halloween and Christmas.

Thanks to all reviewers. It's really encouraging to know there are actually people reading, especially when it's the first time posting in a section.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the PoT characters.

**WARNINGS **AU, slash, many, many Ocs (original characters)

Chapter 3 

Ryoma sat down in his first class, ignoring everything and everyone around him. It was English and, coming from America, Ryoma had been jumped up into one of the higher-level classes with the older students.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ytashi giving him an odd look. When he caught sight of him, the older boy smiled nastily. Unconcerned and unaffected, Ryoma dismissed it, thinking back to the events of that morning….

FLASHBACK

"….Fuji-sempai, I need to go to school."

"Mm."

"….Fuji-sempai."

"Hmm?"

"Get off."

"Saa….You haven't changed."

"I'll be late for school."

The conversation was interrupted by his cousin calling up the stairs for Ryoma to hurry. With a disappointed sigh, Fuji slid off the bed and stretched. Ryoma followed suit, smoothing down his disheveled hair and immediately going for his hat, pulling it low over his eyes.

As the two took seats at the kitchen table, Nanako set a steaming platter down, smiling.

"Good morning. When will you be starting school, Fuji-kun?"

"Tomorrow…."

END FLASHBACK

….Ryoma glanced up as the teacher entered. Something told him that it was going to be a very long day.

------------------------------

Samara Haru vice captain of the Keitou High School tennis team pausing in the kitchen doorway. "I'll be off then, Kassan."

He halted suddenly, blinking as someone emerged from behind the open, refrigerator door. "Who are you?"

The boy who looked to be maybe a year older than himself smiled. "Nice to meet you, Haru-chan."

The boy opened his eyes, blood red orbs locking with startled brown, holding and captivating them.

"I am your older brother who has been living in China," he said, his voice smooth and lulling. "My name is Samara Shikara and I will be joining your school starting today."

Then those piercing, crimson eyes blinked and the atmosphere returned to normal. "I hope you wouldn't mind showing me around."

Dazed, Haru nodded, his brown orbs somewhat glazed. "Sure. No—no problem."

-----------------------------

Ryoma entered the locker rooms that day after school to the loud chatter of the other club members.

"I didn't know you had a brother, Haru," a tall, slim third-year was saying, pushing his glasses up his nose. From his build, one would not have guessed that the speaker, Minou they all called him, was one of the regulars. He was a data player, though nothing on Inui-sempai. Still, Ryoma sincerely hoped the two never met.

"He was living in China with an uncle," Haru replied vaguely.

Ryoma headed for his locker, ignoring the chatter as always, but halted as someone stepped into his path.

"Echizen Ryoma, I presume?"

"Hn."

Ryoma tilted his head to the side and glanced up at the much-taller young man, golden orbs meeting bloody crimson. He raised an eyebrow, taking an almost immediate dislike to the boy. The hooded way the other was gazing down at him raised his hackles, sending tingles of alarm down his spine.

"Samara Shikara," the boy introduced himself, holding out his hand. "Nice to meet you at last. I've heard a lot about you, quite the tennis player I hear."

"Aa." Ryoma shrugged, ignoring the hand and walking past him. "Hi."

…………………

Ytashi was not at the practice and Ryoma made a mental note to make him run laps next time he showed his face around the courts.

Satisfied with the progress his team had made that day, he called practice to a close and sent them off on twenty laps before heading back to the locker rooms. The in-school tournament that would determine this year's regulars would be starting in two days.

He wondered if the tensai would be playing. It had been a while since he had last watched the other on the courts.

Locking the locker room door behind the last club member as they departed for home, he headed on his way as well, his thoughts preoccupied with the coming matches.

A shadow fell over him as he stepped through the front gates of the school, deserted so late in the afternoon. The sun hanging low in the sky painted the horizon with shades of orange and gold that threw long shadows across the cement, still warm from their baking earlier in the day.

Ryoma looked up as a rough hand jerked him up by the collar of his school uniform.

"We've been waiting for you."

-----------------------------

Fuji had spent his morning making plans and 'redecorating'. After breakfast, he took a walk around the city, familiarizing himself with his new surroundings, dropping by the school to check his schedule. After reviewing Ryoma's schedule while he was at it, he had pulled a few strings and managed to get into some of the same classes. After that, it was back for lunch then down to the local greenhouse, returning with the trunk of his borrowed car lined with cactus.

It was late afternoon when the doorbell rang and he went downstairs to get it. Opening the door, he blinked in shock.

"What happened?" Fuji asked, frowning as he went to grab the first aid kit from the medicine cabinet and set it down on the floor.

Ryoma had sunk into one of the over-stuffed couches in the living room, dropping his school stuff on the seat next to him. The green-haired boy was covered in bruises and cuts.

"Okiru Ytashi," Ryoma muttered, wincing as the tensai dabbed at the cuts with a towel that he had dipped in hot water. "He used to be the captain of the school tennis team before I arrived."

He mustered a sour smirk. "He's been sore ever since I beat him. It was my fault really. I was careless and he and his friends caught me after school on my way home."

Sapphire eyes glinted coldly as Fuji made a note of the name.

Someone was going to pay—dearly.

Because, come the morning, Fuji Syusuke was attending Keitou High.

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Thanks for reading and please review.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: **Thanks for reviewing.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the PoT characters.

**WARNINGS **AU, slash, many, many Ocs (original characters)

Chapter 4 

"We have a new student today. He's a transfer student from Seigaku High and I want you all to make him feel welcome."

Whispers rippled through the class as people turned to their neighbors.

"Seigaku? Isn't that where Echizen is from?"

"I've seen him before! He's on the Seigaku tennis team."

"No, really? They're supposed to be one of the best in Japan."

Fuji gave a slight, polite bow, smiling his usual, deceptively innocent smile. "Hajimemashte watashi wa Fuji Syusuke desu, dozoyorishiku."

Ryoma scoffed silently as the tensai introduced himself. He could tell from the talking that everyone had been taken in by the seemingly benevolent expression, never guessing that the person standing at the front of the room beside the English teacher was more akin to the Devil incarnate than any angel.

Though not one for asking others for aid, Ryoma prayed silently that Fuji remembered the promise he had extracted from the prodigy that there would be no 'funny business' in school on the first day.

"There is an empty desk beside Echizen Ryoma," the teacher noted, turning to Fuji. "You can sit there, and he can show you around later. I understand the two of you both went to Seigaku Junior High."

The whispers sprang up again as Fuji moved to take his seat beside Ryoma.

Te younger boy pointedly ignored all the envious looks he was receiving from some of his classmates, wishing he was allowed to wear his hat during class.

If only they knew.

---------------

Ryoma had always wondered what went on in Fuji's head—though on second thought, he had always come to the conclusion tat he had no desire whatsoever to find out. Thre years hadn't seemed to have changed the tensai much, if at all, for the better or for the worse.

Lunch found the pair seated at a table tucked away in a far corner of the noisy cafeteria.

"You have chemistry next," Fuji stated.

It was not a question.

"Hn." Ryoma didn't even bother to ask how the other knew. Knowing Fuji, he had probably memorized his schedule.

"I'll be taking photography," Fuji explained, retrieving a piece of sushi with his chopsticks, "so I'll be seeing you after that."

"I have history," Ryoma reminded him.

"Your history teacher has already excused you so you can show me around the school."

"…"

A cheerful greeting interrupted the stalemate. "Hi."

They looked up as a girl with straight, auburn hair that fell to her waist slid into the chair next to Fuji. "So, you must be the new student. My name's Rika and its nice to meet you."

Ryoma stood abruptly, interrupting her stream of chatter as he picked up his tray. "I'll be going. See you later, Fuji-sempai."

And turning, he left as quickly as he could without seeming to rush. His emotions were all confused at the moment and he did not feel inclined to sort them out just yet.

Why couldn't life be simple?

And then again, a world with Fuji in it was never simple. The tensai seemed to exist for the sake of chaos.

This was going to be a grueling year.

----------------------

Ms Muri was concerned. Tall and dark with wavy blonde hair that she kept held back in a braid that reached her waist, she was the drama teacher at Keitou High.

The folds of her elaborate blue dress rustled with every step as she paced the vacant stage, chewing on her bottom lip.

"You wanted to see me, Ms Muri?"

She turned as the principal entered the theatre, his crisp, gray suit almost black in the faint illumination.

"Yes," she sighed, leaving the stage by the set of steps that led down to the ground on either side of the platform and sinking into one of the seats in the front row. "I've just got several calls. All my best students are leaving midway through the year. There won't be enough people to open the class come Christmas. What are we going to do about the end-of-the year performance? It's always the capping event of the evening—we can't just omit it."

"No," the principal agreed, frowning.

The two sat in stewing silence for several minutes.

Ms Muri brightened suddenly. "Well, there _are_ a great number of clubs at our school…."

---------------------

Touring the school was most definitely not Ryoma's favorite pastime. The halls were mostly quiet with all the other students in class. And every time they passed a classroom window, people turned their heads to stare curiously at the new student and the tennis team captain.

Ryoma wasn't sure what to think about attending the same school as Fuji again, let alone living in the same house and—well, the rest of it. It had been quite a while after all.

While he identified the places they past in fragmented or one-word phrases in a bored monotone, Fuji updated him on the goings-on with his old team.

"Girl's restroom," Ryoma muttered, followed steps later by, "boy's restroom."

"The others will be visiting at Christmas."

Just then the bell rang, signaling the end of school. Only one more place, the younger boy thought with relief.

"This," Ryoma sighed, grabbing the brass handles and pushing ajar the left side of a set of heavy, double doors that had been crafted of a deep mahogany wood, "is the theatre."

Following the shorter boy into the chamber beyond, Fuji shut the door without a sound, surveying their surroundings with veiled interest.

The theatre was furnished in shades of deep reds and blacks. A row of small lights just above the stage illuminated the room with a dim light that cast everything into a somewhat shadowed perspective. The crimson-cushioned seats were divided into three areas, each row of chairs descending like tiers towards the raised stage, ending roughly three paces before the edge of the platform.

In the vast, darkened chamber, all sound seemed muffled somehow, and an almost unearthly stillness lay like a feathery blanket over the secretive atmosphere.

"I have to go," Ryoma said abruptly, glancing impatiently down at his watch. "I have tennis practice."

"No need to rush," Fuji murmured, his smile now almost sly as the two made their way back to the theatre doors. "You never know who might be listening. After all, they say that every theatre has its ghosts."

**AN**: Thanks for reading and please review.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: **

To Kina-chan: Ryoma's first class is English, and—since he's from America—I skipped him up a few classes. So, he's taking English with the older students. As for knowing they went to the same school…they'll find out eventually.

To everyone: Thanks for reviewing.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the PoT characters.

**WARNINGS **AU, slash, many, many Ocs (original characters)

Chapter 5 

Shikara smirked to himself as he handed his history test to the teacher and made his way out the door.

This was proving easier than he had predicted. These foolish humans had no idea what was hanging over their seemingly bright horizon.

There was only one concern clouding his mind: the target himself and the new student.

…Fuji Syusuke.

He felt as though he should know the name and yet…for some reason, every time he ran through his memories, he came up with a blank.

Shikara snorted derisively. Why was the slender youth so bothering him anyway? He was more than a match for any human.

-----------------------

"Sango! Give me my racket this instant!"

The second-year giggled, dancing out of Daisuke's reach as he continued to juggle the three rackets.

"He's just practicing," Sanga retorted on his twin's behalf, throwing a tennis ball high into the air and catching it again without ever glancing up from his book.

The flustered jester dropped onto a bench, watching anxiously as his racket soared up into the air and was caught again, whirling between deft fingers. "For what? The circus?"

Sanga snorted, peering over the open pages. "You're one to talk."

"Are you implying something?"

"You tell me. I'm not the one who spent lunch having an intense conversation with his broccoli."

"You know, Sanga—"

"No, I don't. Please do not enlighten me."

"—You really need to work on that attitude. Why don't I refer you to my uncle? He's a psychiatrist."

Minou frowned as he emerged from the office at the back. "Could the lot of you keep it down? I have work to do."

Daisuke stuck out his tongue. But before further retorts could be fired, the locker room door opened and Ryoma stepped inside followed by a stranger with light brown hair.

The team chorused in greeting. Ryoma nodded curtly before heading straight for his corner locker.

"As cheerful and outgoing as ever," Daisuke laughed, bouncing over to clap the irritated captain on the back.

Ryoma grunted, trying to ignore the tensai's suddenly intense gaze. Then the glint of sapphire blue vanished behind that infuriating, innocent smile. Why was his stomach twisting in dread?

"Nice to meet you," Daisuke said, turning to Fuji next and holding out his hand. "Name's Daisuke, Minaraiya Daisuke. And you would be…?"

He sensed movement behind him but before Ryoma could make a run for it, Fuji had touched him on the shoulder gently and leaned down to peck him on the cheek before facing the others with a pleasant smile. Accepting a stunned Daisuke's hand, he shook it.

"Fuji Syusuke."

Ryoma tugged his cap down to hide his face, picking up the pace of his usual routine. The sooner he was changed and his stuff put away, the faster he could get away from his crazy boyfriend.

"So, h—how's your first day been?" Haru inquired. He had walked in just in time to witness the casual display.

"Quite good, thank you," the prodigy replied cheerfully. "Sorry, but if you'll just excuse me…"

Moving swiftly over to where his boyfriend was making good on his getaway, Fuji draped an arm about Ryoma's shoulders, smiling placidly as they walked out onto the courts with the other members of the tennis club goggling after them.

"Go out with me after practice today?"

………

Daisuke blinked as the locker room door swung shut. "Am I hallucinating?"

Sanga cleared his throat, setting his forgotten book aside. "Not unless we all are."

His twin shook his head vigorously and stared again at the closed door. "I think I missed something."

Minou adjusted his glasses thoughtfully, tapping his chin with a finger. "Indeed…."

TBC

**AN**: Thanks for reading and please review.

Sorry. The plot's moving sort of slowly.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: **

To Kina-chan: No problem. And the other regulars aren't coming till Christmas. As for Fuji not being human….we'll see.

To everyone: Thanks for reviewing.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the PoT characters.

**WARNINGS **AU, slash, many, many Ocs (original characters)

Chapter 6 

"You promised you wouldn't do anything on the first day of school."

"Saa, I didn't."

Golden eyes glowered resentfully from beneath dark bangs, every line of the face to which they belonged radiating accusation. How dare Fuji steal his hat!

"What is that supposed to mean?"

The two were seated at a small, square table in a cozy café located on a quiet street corner. It was a neat if small place with large windows flooded by afternoon sunlight. Pale, sky-blue draperies were tied back with long, velvet ribbons, fluttering softly in the slight breeze of the air conditioner like butterfly wings. Watery swirls swept across the snowy wallpaper in watercolor shades of purple, blue, and turquoise.

Paintings of seaside shores and faraway mountains had been hung at strategic spots upon the walls and the chairs were cushioned in matching, pale blue.

Fuji thanked the waitress politely as she set two cups of liquid on the table between them, taking a delicate sip from his own glass before replying. "Tennis practice was after school. I said I wouldn't do anything during school hours—on the first day."

Ryoma opened his mouth for a retort then closed it again, torn between amusement and fury. Dealing with Fuji twenty-four seven was driving him up the walls. But instead of throttling his smiling boyfriend, as he knew he would regret not doing many times in the months to follow, Ryoma grabbed his ponta and, to all appearances, attempted to drown himself in it.

Fuji set his glass down with a soft clink and glanced out the window at the people passing on the street. He had been….disappointed…when Ytashi had not shown his face around the courts during practice.

No one laid a finger on Fuji's property and survived unscarred. But no matter.

There was always time.

"So, how have the last few years been? You never did return all my letters."

His companion shrugged. "Fine, I guess."

"Oidhi said to say hello for him. He and Eiji are off in a world of their own these days."

"Hn, that's no surprise."

Fuji chuckled. "The question has always been what took them so long? Taka-san is almost ready to take over the sushi restaurant and Momoshiro is still a regular customer at the burger joint. Kaidoh has been hiding a lot lately—hmm, I wonder why? Oh, and Inui said he'll be sending some juice over as a sort of late birthday present since he didn't make it last year."

Ryoma choked, fear flashing across his face. Inui's juice was probably the scariest thing he could think of next to the smiling prodigy sitting opposite him.

"Tell him he needn't bother," he said hurriedly as soon as he was able to speak.

Fuji's innocent smile quirked, resembling more of a wickedly amused smirk. "But it would be rude to refuse the generosity. We'll be receiving three gallons by post next week."

Ryoma turned green.

………….

Half an hour later, they stood to leave, pushing in their chairs as they drained the last drops from their cups. The waitress bustled over to collect the empty glasses, halting with her eyes wide as the taller of the two pulled the other into a kiss. She was still standing frozen in shock as the two broke apart and headed for the door, the dark-haired one pulling his hat down to hide his startlingly golden eyes.

Now that had made her morning.

After all, it wasn't every day that she saw two handsome _guys_ kissing in the café.

…………..

As Ryoma stepped out into the sunlight, he was greeted by something far less pleasant.

"Well, well, look what we have here."

Golden eyes glared contemptuously at the messy-haired teen as people passing by stopped to watch what promised to be a brewing fight, forming a circled around the three.

Before Ryoma could make a retort, Fuji walked past him and halted before the youth, smile never faltering. "Are you Okiru Ytashi by any chance?"

The boy scowled. "I am. What's it to you?"

"Saa…"

And in one, swift movement, Fuji brought his hand back, the fingers curling into a fist, and punched Ytashi in the face.

Ignoring the boy's indignant, pained gasp as he sank to his knees, clutching his bleeding nose, Fuji turned and walked calmly back to Ryoma.

Taking his hand possessively, the tensai smiled, leading his boyfriend through the stunned spectators who parted before them like the Red Sea.

"Let's go, Ryo-kun."

The dark-haired youth did not envy the former captain. The punch was effective, but it was not Fuji's style.

If he knew the prodigy at all, this was only the beginning.

He could almost feel sorry for him.

Almost.

Ryoma smirked.

-----------------------

"Did you hear? There's going to be a play. The principal is going to draw lots to see which of the school clubs have to design and perform the end-of-the-year play."

Whispers could be heard all around school as Ryoma made his way to his first class.

Being the indifferent person he was, he paid the talk no attention.

After all, as far as he was aware, it was not his business.

……………

Fuji glanced up as the teacher cleared her throat.

"If you would please conclude whatever you have been working on, we have to attend a brief assembly."

Calmly, Fuji logged off and stood up, smile firmly in place—though those who knew him better might have noticed the slightly wicked tilt to the corner of the mouth and felt some concern. Indeed, those with less self-restraint might have turned in the opposite direction and hid.

Fuji had just spent the latter half of his computer science class hacking into the school computer to research one popular, former captain of the tennis team Okiru Ytashi. He had also been rather pleased to discover that the school grounds were being monitored by an advanced camera system and that, with a little more time, he could gain access to it with ease.

As the class filed into the theatre, Fuji scanned the sea of students. Spotting a familiar head of black-green hair, his smile became genuine and he detached himself from the group to take the conveniently empty seat.

"This looks interesting," he murmured.

"Hn."

The assembly quieted as the principal walked onto the stage and coughed experimentally into the microphone, but Fuji was only listening with half an ear.

Sapphire eyes glinted as they locked with bloody red. Shikara smirked, his gaze flickering meaningfully towards the dark-haired boy beside him before returning to icy blue.

Fuji's gaze narrowed as he shifted closer to Ryoma before turning back to the stage.

The principal reached into the black hat he had set on the podium and drew out a small slip of yellow paper. The audience held its breath as he unfolded it.

"The tennis club. Echizen Ryoma, please turn in a plan for the play Monday next week."

TBC

**AN**: Thanks for reading and please review.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: **

A big thank you to everyone who reviewed.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the PoT characters.

**WARNINGS **AU, slash, many, many Ocs (original characters)

Chapter 7 

"What are we doing for the blasted play?" Daisuke demanded, dropping down on the bench beside Haru.

"Don't swear."

The vice captain tapped a stack of novels before him. "As for the play, everyone's been giving ideas. If you're not playing right now, please lend a hand in helping me sort these out."

The jester opened his mouth to make an excuse then thought better of it, taking pity on his harassed looking teammate. Sorting through the pile, he riffled through pages of script.

"I never did like that story," he muttered, tossing a book over his shoulder. "Let's take a look at this one."

Daisuke looked up when the feverish activity beside him paused. Following Haru's gaze, he raised an eyebrow at the duo standing on the side of the nearest court where Sanga and Sango were playing. Neither appeared to be actually watching the match

"Do you think we should—ah—help him?" Haru flushed and averted his eyes.

Daisuke, obviously feeling no such compunctions, stared in open fascination, hiding a wide smirk behind a hand that was not quite able to conceal it. "Oh, I think he's—ah—got it under—heheh—control."

'Under control' was most definitely not how Echizen Ryoma would have chosen to describe his current predicament.

"Fuji, stop it."

"Saa…stop what?"

"…Don't hang all over me like that."

"Mmm."

Muscles tensed at the feel of cool, slender fingers creeping up his bare back.

"…I mean it."

"Saa…But I don't want to."

"This one looks interesting," Haru said hastily. "I've never heard of it before, but it has the right number of main characters. Eight—and there will be eight of us after the ranking matches."

Daisuke wrenched his attention down to the book Haru had stuffed into his hands. Across the top, written in an elegant, curving script, was the title, which he read aloud.

"White & Crimson Roses."

-------------------

Ryoma smirked. It was time for the ranking matches and his first game of the game was against none other than Ytashi. Bouncing the tennis ball, he stared darkly across the net at his opponent. Ytashi had never yet won one game from him and Ryoma was not about to let him start now. On the courts alone, skilled as he may be, Ytashi was no match for him.

"Hmm m m'mm?"

Sango looked up as is twin came to stand beside him. Interpreting the series of noises correctly as 'how's it going?' he smiled.

"Buchou is pretty much wiping the floor with him."

"Mmm." Sanga nodded, a knowing look on his face.

"Not surprised?"

"Mm mm."

"Neither am I. They never did get along, ever since Echizen turned up with that cocky smile of his and flattened him."

…………………………….

Minou examined the scoreboard as he entered Daisuke's last match at six to two. It came as no surprise that Ryoma had made it through all his marches so far without losing a single round. That left him in the finals for the first division. The question was, who would he be playing?

Blinking, he peered more closely at the board. It was Fuji and Ytashi in the round before the semifinals.

…………………..

Ytashi smirked as he watched the teen with the light brown hair step onto the court. This was his chance to get revenge for the broken nose the transfer student had given him.

On the side of the court, Ryoma smirked, leaning back against the fence to watch. The expression on Ytashi's face when the ball spun across the ground past him without bouncing up again was priceless. It came as absolutely no surprise to him when Fuji slaughtered the other player six to zero.

Now that was a game Ryoma was never going to forget.

Golden eyes gleamed and he straightened. That most probably left Fuji and himself facing off in the last match of the day.

……………………………..

"So it's the captain against the new student?" Haru asked anxiously.

Sanga sat down beside his twin, grinning. "This I've got to see."

As the two shook hands over the net, Ryoma fixed Fuji with a serious glare. "Don't toy with me. I want a serious game."

Sapphire eyes glinted over the almost mocking, faultless smile. "If I play you seriously, you're going to owe me one."

"Whatever you want."

Fuji smirked. "You said so yourself."

The younger boy paused uneasily at the look on the prodigy's face, but the appeal of a serious game with the tensai was too great.

People gathered to watch in fascinated wonder as the two began to play with a familiarity that spoke of long acquaintance. Murmurs of amazement at their skill rippled all around them and Minou adjusted his glasses for a better look. Now this was a match he never thought he would see at this school and he wanted to miss nothing.

------------------------------

Ryoma cursed the rain as he followed Fuji reluctantly inside. The score stood five to four in the tensai's favor, but he was sure he could beat him if only the rain had not come on so suddenly. Judging from the loud patter of raindrops on the locker room ceiling, the flash flood would not be letting up anytime soon.

Still, it had been a good game.

Haru handed him the final results of the matches and Ryoma scanned the chart, unsurprised.

Incidentally, th owners of the respective names would also be the cast for their end-of-year performance.

The final line-up for the regulars was posted on the locker room door before they left:

Aimiri Minou

Echizen Ryoma

Fuji Syusuke

Kirai Sanga

Kirai Sango

Minaraiya Daisuke

Samara Haru

Samara Shikara

TBC

**AN**: Thanks for reading and please review.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: **

Thanks to everyone who reviewed.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the PoT characters.

**WARNINGS **AU, slash, many, many Ocs (original characters)

Chapter 8 

Mrs. Himiko glanced up from the application form, running a hand through her raven black hair. "So your name is Fuji Syusuke?"

The boy seated on the opposite side of her office desk nodded.

It was odd, the teacher thought, how he never opened his eyes. And the way he was always smiling….It could have been nothing, but somehow, his whole appearance managed to generate an air of mystery.

Riffling through the papers, she nodded to herself. "Why do you want to join journalism?"

"Saa, I have always wanted to try writing and taking pictures for the newspaper. It's always good to experience possible future job options, ne?"

And of course, working for the school nrespaper presented _so_ many possibilities.

"Do you have any previous experience in either field?"

"Writing has mostly been for class, but photography has always been a hobby of mine."

"What can you contribute to the newspaper?"

"I can make it interesting. I'm—skilled—at finding unusual stories."

Was it her imagination or had that statement sounded almost sinister? But Himiko blinked and the momentary smirk had gone to be replaced by that charming smile, leaving her to wonder if it had ever been there to begin with.

"All right, that will be all for the interview," she said. "I will look over your portfolio and let you know if you have been accepted as soon as possible."

Fuji stood, bowing politely as he pushed in his chair. "Arigatou."

-----------------

"Do we have a play picked out?" Sango asked as the eight regulars took seats about the locker room.

"Aa," Ryoma confirmed. "I handed in our drama plan this morning."

Everyone fell quiet.

"So," Sanga began, breaking the silence. "What exactly is this play about?"

"Here." Haru rummaged through his locker and passed out a package of paper to each person. "I made copies of the script."

The locker room filled with the sound of turning pages as people scanned the story. With every cursory glance, Ryoma's heart sank.

"_Sooo_," Daisuke drawled, shutting his package with a dubious expression. "Let me get this straight. The story is actually being told by this court jester who witnessed it a few years back—so he's like a sort of prologue?"

Sanga snickered. "I bet we all know who that's going to be."

Daisuke ignored him. "When the heir of the kingdom was born, the king is summoned by the royal seer and is given a prophecy on the new princess. Blah, blah, blah—an apprentice magician meets the princess on accident when she sneaks out of the castle when she was sixteen. When the king sent for the land's best magicians to protect his daughter from the enemy in the prophecy, he volunteers to be her protector, only people laugh cause he's barely older than the girl herself—"

"Ah, you don't need to retell the whole story to us," Sango objected. "In short, there's a demon clothed in a human body who's looking for a power source to regain his true form and this," he waved his packet, "tells of the struggle for the survival of the kingdom."

"That sounds right," Shikara agreed in his silky voice. "I shall volunteer to be the demon if there are no objections. Bas guys are always such interesting characters."

Minou pulled out his notebook and started a list. "That's one character covered. There are still seven—the king, his advisor, the seer, the ghost, the hester, the princess, and the magician."

Daisuke mulled this over then, slowly, an evil smile spread across his face. "_Sooo_, who's going to be the princess?"

Several reasonable debates, unreasonable arguments, shouting matches, and thrown objects later, Minou penned the last name into the last vacant spot. Tearing out the page, he handed it to Haru, who taped the list on the locker room wall. The actors had been arranged in alphabetical order, but that was about the only observation he could make before a furious shout sent the lot of them outdoors onto the tennis courts.

"Everyone, twenty laps!"

As the locker room was shut, light from the clear afternoon fell through the small window set in the door upon the words written in blue ink upon the page:

Daisuke: court jester

Fuji: magician

Haru: king

Minou: trusted advisor

Ryoma: princess

Sanga: seer 

Sango: ghost

Shikara: demon wizard

---------------

A disgruntled Ryoma left the courts without waiting for Fuji. With every step, he mentally berated the prodigy for bringing up that ridiculous story for the play. He didn't care! He wouldn't be caught dead in a dress!

Fuji didn't catch up with him till he was a block away from home. Unperturbed by the glare he received from the younger boy, he settled into an easy stride beside him.

"Ne, Ryo-kun, are you going to attend the Halloween dance?"

Ryoma paused at the gate to the front garden, hand on the latch. "No."

"Saa, but it'll be fun."

Pushing the gate open with more force than was necessary, Ryoma stalked past him. "Then you go."

"You owe me," Fuji reminded him pleasently.

The shorter boy stopped, staring up at him in confusion. Then as the realization dawned on him, his face darkened into a glower, but there was nothing he could do about it.

"I hate you."

Fuji merely chuckled. "I love you too. Now, let's finish up homework and get ready."

---------------------

As six o'clock arrived, Ryoma was not at all pleased to find himself sitting on his bed while Fuji inspected his wardrobe. The dance was at seven.

"For the last time, Fuji-sempai. I refuse to wear a costume."

"But, Ryo-kun," the tensai all but purred over his shoulder. "You would look so cute—"

"Don't finish that sentence," Ryoma warned, scowling. "I won't and that's that. Yada."

A disappointed look crossed Fuji's face but it was gone as soon as it appeared, replaced by the usual smile as he conceded. "All right, but at least wear something more appropriate."

Pulling a few items from the wardrobe, he tossed them lightly towards the bed. Snatching the garments from midair, Ryoma examined them closely. Deciding that they were okay, he glanced suspiciously at Fuji.

"What about you? I don't see you changing."

Fuji flashed him a fanged smile. "I will in just a moment."

Ryoma blinked. Great. He was going out with a vampire.

TBC

**AN**: Thanks for reading and please review.


	10. Chapter 10

AN: It's been a while, hasn't it?

--------------------------------------------------

Chapter 9 

The first thing that hit them as the door opened was the music, pounding over the din of conversation turned up to full blast.

Ryoma winced. No matter how good the music was, tuned up to that volume, it became nothing but ear-shattering noise. It was no wonder that most people these days went deaf early.

He was dressed in a deep blue vest that left his arms bare. His legs were clad in loose, black velvet and matching black armbands had been placed around his wrists. Fuji had banished his hat and exchanged his tennis shoes for a pair of soft, black boots.

Fixing an expression of utter indifference onto his face to hide his discomfort, Ryoma followed Fuji into the light and the ruckus.

The tensai was still wearing that infuriating little smile as he swept into the party in a black cape lined with red satin.

Ryoma flinched when the smile turned his way. Fuji always managed to get away with a lot of things, but the prodigy and a Halloween party simply promised too many possibilities.

"Saa, where would you like to start?"

Ryoma glowered. "Hn."

Fuji smiled, leading him towards the two long refreshment tables on the side, draped in black and orange tablecloths. "Here, I brought some refreshments for everyone to sample."

Golden eyes turned wary and their owner made a note not to eat anything that night lest he be poisoned.

His suspicions were confirmed as a boy moved up to the punch bowl Fuji had just put down. The first obvious sign to the careful observer and expert on a certain light brown-haired prodigy's antics was the sickly, unnatural black color of the liquid substance contained within the glass vessel. On Halloween this was probably not too unusual, but the bubbles rising in the drink should most certainly have been fair warning. So Ryoma could not honestly say he was surprised as the unfortunate boy and initial victim took a gulp and promptly keeled over.

"What did you give him?" he demanded as Fuji slipped back to his side. He sincerely hoped it was not what he thought—knew—it was—must be.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He sighed and rephrased. "What did you bring?"

"Saa, that juice was one of my favorites so I asked Inui for the recipe."

"What did you put in it?" Ryoma demanded, spluttering as the trembling student's laughing friend took a sip and turned a rapid shade of green. Pausing for a moment, he corrected himself hastily. "On second thought, I don't want to know."

--------------------------

Soon after, the room darkened and the music calmed as the dance floor was cleared of any stray chairs and forgotten plates. As other couples moved into the center, Fuji turned to smile at his boyfriend.

"Shall we dance?"

Ryoma seriously wanted to edge back but there was a group of chattering girls standing right behind him. "Maybe we shouldn't."

"Saa, no need to be shy," the tensai said consolingly, dragging him out onto the dance floor. "We're here to have fun."

"You mean, _you're_ here to have fun," Ryoma muttered in response. "And I'm here so you can torture and embarrass me."

But no one was listening to him as Fuji bodily dragged him into the swaying crowd. The music kicked up, speeding into a feverish rhythm that had the blood racing through their veins. Resigned, Ryoma allowed the tensai to guide him through the steps, scowling at the smug smile that flittered across Fuji's face. Pausing in the middle of the dance floor, Fuji leaned down to kiss him lightly on the mouth before dropping down to nuzzle his neck.

Ryoma pushed him away, glaring. "Don't you dare bite me with teeth like that."

Fuji smirked. "Why? Are you afraid? I'm not really a vampire after all."

"I wouldn't really be surprised."

To that, Fuji Syusuke just laughed.

-----------------------

Daisuke was a fan of sweets and the cookies set in heaping trays on the refreshment table was his idea of heaven. Stocking his plate with cookies from sugar and lemon to chocolate chip, he took a seat at a table and prepared to dig in.

There was only one other person at his table and he could not help peering around the collection of pitchers—out of curiosity one must understand—to see who it was.

He blinked in surprise at the boy slumped in his chair on the other side, golden eyes peering suspiciously around at the crowd. "Are you hiding, buchou?"

Ryoma started, glaring and motioning for Daisuke to be quiet, glancing around again to see if Fuji had found him. He hated being cornered in public.

Glimpsing the familiar head of light brown hair coming towards them, he cursed. Hastily, he slid from behind the pitchers of fruit punch and ducked again into the crowd.

--------------------------

Haru watched their captain weave through the milling dancers, frowning. "Have you ever seen Echizen so—well—"

"Scared?" Minou supplied.

Adjusting his glasses, he took a sip of his punch and smiled. "I did some research the other day."

Haru was almost afraid to ask, but did so anyway. "On what?"

Minou nodded towards the shadowed corner where Fuji had finally cornered his pray and pinned his wrists above his head. "Those two."

Setting his drink aside, he pulled a navy-blue notebook from his coat and flipped it open. "They obviously know each other very well—"

Haru thought that was the understatement of the century.

"—so I looked into the old Seigaku tennis records. Here, this is a group picture of the Seigaku regulars taken a few years back. They were rumored to be the best team the schools have ever seen."

Haru accepted the notebook and blinked down at the photograph Minou had pasted on the right-hand page. On the left of the group stood two familiar figures dressed in the white and blue uniforms of the Seigaku tennis team. The one with light brown hair had his arm wrapped around the waist of the shortest member in the group.

"Fuji Syusuke and Echizen Ryoma," Minou took the notebook back and closed it, still deep in thought, "known in the vast world of tennis as the tensai and the prince."

---------------------------

AN: Thanks for reading and please review.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN**: I'm trying to catch up with Christmas. I'm almost there but it looks like that chapter will be a bit late either way seeing as it's Christmas Eve.

-----------------------------------

Chapter 10 

Winter was well on its way over the country, and with it, the promise of Christmas. The spirits of the general populace took wing at the prospect, but for a small group of eight students at Keitou High, life was rapidly becoming too stressful to even consider a vacation.

Haru groaned, flopping down on the edge of the stage and burying his face in his hands. "I realize we still have half a year, so why do I feel like we aren't going to make it?"

Minou stopped beside him, the tip of his pen scribbling swiftly across the pages of his notebook. "That would be because most of us can't act."

Daisuke clapped his hand. "All right, people, let's try that last scene again."

Perhaps not all that surprisingly, the energetic boy was one of the only three people out of the group who could play their part and make it seem real. Among the other two, there was Shikara and the ever-smiling Fuji. The latter seemed to be enjoying himself greatly at Ryoma's discomfort, which wasn't really helping matters along.

"Winter break is in three days!" Haru wailed, climbing up onto the stage.

"Saa, that will give everyone time to memorize their parts and practice." Fuji jumped off the platform, opting to wait in the audience since he was not in the scene. "For now, I think the death scene could use some going over."

Ryoma snorted, moving backstage to watch and await his cue. "Che. This entire business is ridiculous."

He was really starting to regret setting foot in this school, let alone joined any club, tennis or not. And he doubly regretted ever laying eyes on Fuji Syusuke's perpetually smiling face.

"Let's replay when you get killed," Minou suggested, pencil ready.

Shikara moved to center stage. "Shall we begin?"

Haru took a deep breath. "Okay, let's go."

In one swift motion, Shikara pulled a fake knife from his sleeve and advanced on the vice captain. "I have given you fair warning, time and again. My patience has run out."

"Just a few more days," Haru begged, fighting to keep a straight face. "I—I—"

But he couldn't do it. He burst out laughing, wiping frustrated tears from the corners of his eyes at the same time. "I just can't do it! I feel so ridiculous."

Minou sighed. "Here, let's just say you already died and move on."

Haru lay down on the floor as Daisuke ran in, almost tripping over his legs, and Shikara exited. The jester opened his mouth to exclaim in horror then stopped, frowning.

"You are supposed to be a corpse, Haru. Stop smiling. People who die in pain do not smile."

Ryoma stalked off the stage, grumbling. "This is hopeless."

"Maa, maa, have a little optimism, Ryoma-kun."

Just then the door to the theatre opened and a girl poked her head in. "Would Samara Haru please go to the principal's office?"

Haru sat up, confused. "Now?"

The girl nodded before disappearing back into the hallway.

The group waited with baited breath as the bewildered vice captain exited the theatre.

Ryoma could not explain the sudden sinking sensation in his stomach.

"Trouble do you think?" Sanga muttered, sitting down beside his twin.

Sango nodded. "Mm."

It seemed like an eternity till the theatre door opened again. All eyes were riveted on the vice captain as he stepped back inside, twisting his hands nervously under the scrutiny of his team mates. He opened his mouth then shut it again as nothing came out.

"Well?" Ryoma snapped impatiently.

Haru faltered. "They—they've canceled our registration to any further tennis tournaments this year."

-----------------------------

Ryoma was sprawled on his bed with Kurapin on his stomach, sulking.

Personally, Fuji thought it was a wise decision on the principal's part to disclose the news to Haru instead of the captain himself.

Ryoma had thrown a temper tantrum at being deprived of one of the most important elements in his life. Still, his anguish and frustration had been somewhat quelled with a promise from Fuji to play him a serious game once a week.

It was amazing, Fuji reflected, what the prospect of a good tennis match could do for his boyfriend's moral.

The younger boy practically lived and breathed tennis. Or at least, that was before Fuji came along. After all, the prodigy could never stand to take second place.

It was probably not the best time to tell him Inui's promised gallons of special juice had arrived.

"Cheer up," he advised, heading for the door. "I'll be right back."

Once in the kitchen, Fuji pulled the oven door ajar and peered inside, unmindful of the heat radiating from within. They looked ready. Pulling a glove over his right hand, he opened the door all the way and extracted the tray of golden brown cookies.

Fresh baking always did smell so wonderful.

He paused suddenly, slits of blue gleaming.

His face never changing, Fuji set the still hot tray on the kitchen counter and went to the sink under the pretext of washing his hands. The large window over the sink was open and a bush stood beneath it, the leaves peeking over the sill.

Turning the water on, Fuji purposefully placed his hands up near the mouth of the faucet, causing the water to spurt in a jet into the tangled brush. A satisfied smirk tugged at his lips as he was rewarded by a sharp squawk. There was a flurry of wings and a crow erupted into the skies, struggling to spread its wings and fly away.

It did not get far as the water on its feathers seemed to flow. With a soundless screech and a hiss, the bird seemed to melt away, disintegrating into thin air. But not before Fuji had noticed something distinctly odd and out of place about the creature.

It only had one eye, positioned in the middle of its forehead above its sharp, red beak, which was lined with tiny, razor-sharp teeth.

Turning from the window, Fuji dried his hands and moved to pick up the cookies.

Maybe they would cheer Ryoma up.

--------------------------

In the darkness of an upstairs room elsewhere in the city, Shikara cursed. Someone had destroyed his Watcher.

Clenching his fist, he frowned.

The question was, who had done it?

-----------------------

AN: Thanks for reading and please review!


End file.
